


Ashes to Ashes

by EmuTempo



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Martasha, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), blackhill - Freeform, mostly canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 08:23:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18028220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmuTempo/pseuds/EmuTempo
Summary: Set during and after the battle against Thanos in Wakanda, Natasha Romanoff thinks back on her life at SHIELD and how a certain SHIELD agent changed her life.





	Ashes to Ashes

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  _I bring you my first foray into Blackhill/Martasha. I’m new to the MCU and became a bit obsessed with the Romanoff / Hill pairing. It's been an absolute delight discovering the Blackhill community and reading the great fic on here, Tumblr and elsewhere. I intend for this to be multiple chapters but I'm just getting used to posting on AO3. Apologies for the learning curve._

_Edit: I made some minor edits to the prose and I extended the ending (I'm nervous for you all to read it and it's shorter than I would have liked but maybe I'll... go all the way in a later chapter. I also wanted to add -- in writing chapter 2 and re-reading chapter 1, I felt that my word choice and pacing was flat so I've set a goal for myself to work on the variety in my sentence structure and diction. If anyone has feedback or suggestions on improvement I'd love you to share! (I'm also on Tumblr with the same user name.)_

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**WAKANDA. PRESENT DAY**

All she could smell was dirt and all she could feel was pressure. The ground was like quick sand. Every move she made settled the dirt around her, tightening its hold on her. Like she was buried alive.

Natasha had faced a lot of adversaries throughout her career, some of them capable, dangerous even. And whether it seemed like it or not, she usually had the upper hand. Even against these new alien foes that were popping up over the last few years. Despite all of that, rarely was she ever frightened. But in this moment, as she lay on the ground, hearing her team, her _family_ , succumbing to this unstoppable enemy and the power of the Infinity stones he wielded, she was scared.

She had been trained to lose her fear of the ultimate failure, death. She was just a cog in the Red Room’s machine, a pawn on their chess board with no place in the world for herself. Her life already forfeited to the mission. And what had it meant to her? She had nothing and no one to live for. At least not until Nick Fury and SHIELD saved her from the shell of an existence she thought she deserved. Until she had a team who cared what happened to her and had her back.

Until… she met _her_.

 

**SHIELD HQ. WASHINGTON D.C. 2008**

The Triskelion was impressive even if it was still undergoing renovations. Natasha felt a fleeting moment of pride as she walked through the front doors that this was her new home. No. ‘Home’ was putting too much weight to it. She snuffed out the feeling, a muscle memory triggered by self-preservation, and forced herself to relax a bit. She may not be sure about trusting the rest of SHIELD but for now, she trusted Fury. For now. It helped having Clint there by her side and he trusted the Director. And if all hell broke loose and things went south, she knew Clint would have her back.

Natasha took in her surroundings. Sure, it was part of her training to identify and memorize the layout, the rooms, personnel and most importantly, the exits, but this was more of a ‘sizing up,’ like assessing a safe house. What are the vulnerabilities? Choke points in the hallways? Unsecured air vents? Natasha had to admit, SHIELD was an advanced facility clearly designed with defense in mind. But still, she wondered if the scarcity of personnel in the hallways was merely coincidental or part of that defense. Maybe Fury had ordered it for her sake. Or maybe SHIELD’s own sake? She couldn’t know, of course, and it would be counter productive to ask Fury.

Natasha and Clint took an elevator to the top floor and a short stairwell to the roof where they found the trench coat clad Director and two agents beside him, looking out onto the Potomac. Natasha recognized one of the agents — Phil Coulson. Fury had introduced them after her de-conditioning at an unmarked SHIELD facility in who knows where. Coulson was one of Fury’s right hands and Natasha liked him. He had an easy and calming demeanor and she’d bet a few rubles he could keep his cool under fire.

But the other agent next to Fury was unfamiliar to her. Even with her back to Natasha, she could tell a few things about this new-to-her agent. A few inches shorter than Fury, she was tall, wearing a well-fitting suit that revealed a toned physique. Clearly she took care of herself and her appearance. Her hair was in a low bun and that with her militaristic posture let Natasha assume she was probably ex military. Her arms were crossed against her chest but her shoulders were relaxed. Was it doubt? Apprehension? Or maybe she was chilly from the breeze coming off the river onto the rooftop?Not surprising for a SHIELD operative. Natasha would need more than just a few seconds to assess but nonetheless, she seated herself in her trust for Barton and Fury as they approached.

Fury, Coulson and the mystery agent turned around and for the first time, Natasha got a look at the new agent. She wasn’t surprised, per se, to see such a beautiful woman standing before her. She was surprised by her own reaction. When their eyes connected, she felt a warmth spread through her body as fast and disarming as lightning, traveling from the pit of her stomach to her throat. And just as fast as lightning, Natasha stuffed the feeling down, scolding herself for the involuntarily betrayal by her own body. They walked the last few steps and Natasha took a deep breath, subtly enough she knew no one would notice.

Fury reached out his hand to Barton, “Welcome to the SHIELD rooftop Lounge Barton, Romanoff.” He shook Natasha’s hand. “Of course, you remember Agent Coulson.” Coulson smiled warmly and shook their hands. “Agents. Glad to see you again.” “And this is my other right hand,” Fury continued,”hell, my left eye too. Commander Maria Hill.” All hopes of squashing involuntary feelings died when Maria smiled at Fury’s joke and reached out her hand to Barton in a strong hand shake. “Agent Barton, I’m looking forward to working with you.” “Likewise, Commander.” Natasha couldn’t help but be distracted by the brightness of her eyes when she smiled. She had a strong but feminine voice with a no-bullshit firmness to it. She spoke with confidence.

Hill turned to Natasha who reached out her hand automatically. “Natasha Romanoff.” Again, Natasha chided herself internally but Maria smiled. “Oh, I know who you are.” Natasha tilted her head in slight hesitation, but Maria spoke quickly. “In a good way, I mean, of course.” The words tumbled out of the Commander’s mouth a bit too fast and Natasha forgot herself for a moment and smiled. “It’s nice to meet you too, Commander Hill.” Natasha stepped back and bit the inside of her cheek. This was going to be a hard one to ignore.

 

**WAKANDA. PRESENT DAY.**

The memory renewed Natasha’s struggled against the mound entrapping her. She pointed her toes, digging her heels into the ground behind her ankles and scrunched her shoulders, looking for leverage to slide out. Rocking her body side to side, her hands and feet dug in but she didn’t move an inch. She tried again and again but made no progress, succeeding only in getting more dirt on her face. But rather than get frustrated, she changed tactics. Rocking her body harder, she dug her shoulder into the hard surface, trying to erode the dirt away. It crumbled a bit, dropping more sediment onto her face. While it was progress, Natasha wasn’t sure it would be enough in time for her to get back to her team. To stop Thanos.

She wasn’t sure how, not that it really mattered, but Thanos had threatened to wipe out half of the universe and Vision’s mind stone was the key Thanos needed to do it. Her body rocked harder against the wall, fighting against the thoughts invading her mind. She thought of Tony, wondering where he was, if he had survived whatever he had encountered. They weren’t sure, but the intel had Tony leaving the atmosphere on an alien ship and that was it. No sign of Tony since. And when Thor beamed down to Wakanda mid-battle, she had expected Tony to be with him. But, he wasn’t.

As her body rocked harder against the dirt, she gritted her teeth, forcing her shoulder into the walls. More dirt fell but it wasn’t fast enough for Natasha. Not fast enough to fight the thoughts as they hit her harder. Where was Fury… Barton… Maria.

 

**OUTSIDE OF WHITE HAVEN, PA. 1 WEEK AGO.**

An old diesel truck thunders down an empty mountain highway. Paint peeling, chunks of fender missing, you can barely make out a logo on the side of the driver’s door: musical notes emerging from a cartoon toilet shaped like an instrument with the words “Stravinsky Plumbing” arched above. At the wheel is a middle-aged man sporting a pair of horn rimmed glasses, a pencil thin mustache and a tattered baseball cap. He reaches for the nob and surfs the stations as dull talk radio competes with the sound of the engine.The music and static play back and forth before he lands on an old rock station. Content, he leans out of the window and continues down the highway before turning right onto an unpaved road.

The truck makes another turn onto a narrow drive, barely distinguishable as such, surrounded by trees. The path winds before finally ending at a small clearing, home to a stone and wood cabin at the corner of a small lake. A pile of wood sits on the wrap-around porch with a lifted jeep adjacent. Smoke escapes from a chimney. Overall a modest place, secluded and private.

The driver cuts the engine and grabs a large, black duffle bag from the passenger seat of the truck. He doesn’t bother locking the car door as he walks to the front door, giving it two loud knocks. Barely a second after the second knock, the door swings open. Maria Hill stands on the other side, staring at the plumber with a mixture of surprise and barely-covered delight.

The driver tips his hat and winks at Maria. With a strong country accent, he says “Afternoon, miss. I hear you called for a plumber ‘bout 9 weeks, 2 days and 3.5 hours ago? Apologies for the delay, ma’am. There were some speed bumps alo—” Before he can finish, Maria steps out of the door way and grabs the collar of his shirt in her hands. Her lips close on his and the driver drops the bag, rising to his tip toes and wrapping his arms around the tall woman’s neck. Their hands explore each other. Maria’s lowering to slip into the back pockets of the plumber’s coveralls. Their lips don’t move apart until Maria pulls away, sucking in air. “Igor Stravinsky.”

The driver pulls back, his face in a pout. Shaking his head in disbelief, he opens his mouth to speak but the voice suddenly doesn’t match the man we see. “How did you—” Maria smiles as her fingers caress the man’s face, “I heard that dinosaur of a truck coming down the drive… Besides, you love that composer.” The man raises an eyebrow and the corners of his mouth raise in a tight smile. Despite the man’s seemingly unfamiliar appearance, they stare for a moment into each other’s eyes, intimate and warm. Wordlessly, the driver picks up his bag as Maria pulls him into the cabin, shutting the door behind them. The bag soon forgotten on the floor, the man reaches up to his face and pulls latex from his chin. Rather, her chin. As the last bit of latex comes off and the wig embedded in it, Natasha looks into Maria’s eyes and cups her face. “I missed you.” “I missed you too.”

Natasha pulls Maria’s face to hers and they kiss, their lips barely touching, trying to convey the tenderness between them. Maria whispers, “let’s get you out of these clothes first, Luigi.” She tugs at Natasha’s hand, pulling her toward the bedroom. Natasha follows easily, “Luigi? I’m Igor!” Maria grins as she turns around and walks backward through their bedroom doorway, slowly unbuttoning and discarding her shirt while maintaining eye contact. Natasha catches up to her, kissing her neck as she reaches for the button and zipper of Maria’s jeans and pushes them down to the floor. Maria steps out of them and reaches for Natasha’s jumpsuit zipper near the base of her neck. She smiles, “Stravinsky plumbing?” Natasha watches as Maria pulls the zipper down slowly. She smiles innocently in return. “More like Jurassic Plumbi—” Maria cuts off the joke when she sees the tip of a black lace bra. Her eyes glance up at Natasha who is still trying to look as innocent as ever. Not willing to give in to her game just yet, Maria locks eyes with her as she moves her hand back down along the smaller woman’s body to a stop just below her belly button. Her hands go to Natasha’s shoulders, brushing the fabric off and letting the ‘onesie’ fall to the ground. Only now does she take a half step back to look at Natasha standing in front of her.

“This… is not a onesie” Maria says, running her fingers over the curve of Natasha’s bra and holding back the smile creeping on to her face. “No, it’s not” Natasha replies in a sultry voice, finally letting the innocent look fall from her face.

 

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_Working on chapter 2. Hope to post soon._

 


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